


If I Don't Think About the Problem, It Doesn't Exist

by airamcg, CoreyWW, TheLillie



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lost Love, Medicinal Drug Use, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg/pseuds/airamcg, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoreyWW/pseuds/CoreyWW, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLillie/pseuds/TheLillie
Summary: Pearl opened up text messages and sent one toher.She started typing:I’m feeling really overwhelmed. I’m not sure what to do. I’m trying to get myself together.Pearl hesitated before she sent a second one.I miss you.[A doubleshot based on Yellow Pearl's character from the fic "Something about Roommates and Girlfriends" by TheLillie. Possibly canon.]





	1. Everything is Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLillie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLillie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Something About Roommates and Girlfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969258) by [TheLillie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLillie/pseuds/TheLillie). 



> **This first part takes place after Ch. 11 of the main fic.**
> 
> Even though I have tried to make this work as a standalone story also, I highly recommend reading up to that point in the story before reading this.

Pearl hung up her phone with a sigh. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair before setting the phone on the desk. At least she had her own office so no one else had to see her panic.

She shouldn’t be worried anymore. She’d already done everything she could by warning Peridot of Mother’s expectations, assuming the dolt who answered the phone informed her properly. Not to mention Pearl’s insistence was the only reason Mother was giving Peridot a second chance at all. She’d done enough. That should be the end of it.

Pearl folded her arms and swirled her leather office chair towards the window. She furrowed her brow.

She shouldn’t even _care_ , honestly. This entire situation was Peridot’s own fault, just like always. She was nothing but an arrogant, terrible-at-everything, annoying, selfish _brat_ who never appreciated anything her dear sister did even though _she practically raised her_. Well, fine.

She was done worrying anymore about Peridot.

Done.

Pearl dug her fingers into both her elbows as she shifted in her chair.

... she wondered if Peridot was eating right. She never ate enough. Pearl always thought the idiot was stupid enough to starve herself if Pearl wasn’t there to stop her.

Pearl shook her head. No, no more worrying about that. She didn’t want to have another panic attack. So what if Peridot might be starving herself, might have complete fools for friends, might screw up the only second chance she’ll ever get, might do something that’d prevent Pearl from ever seeing her ever again ...

Pearl realized she was shaking. She felt her heart pound in her chest. She groaned.

_Great. This again._

Pearl picked up her Gucci purse and rifled through it. She kept the orange bottle of diazepam pills at the bottom, just so Mother wouldn’t accidentally see it. Mother didn’t know she took them, mainly because Pearl didn’t get them from a doctor. She got them through... _alternative_ means. Pearl had little choice; the personal shame of having to buy prescription pills from a drug dealer was _nothing_ compared to the consequences that would come from Mother knowing there was something _wrong_ with her.

Pearl finally dug out the unlabeled orange bottle, only to find it was empty. She angrily shoved it back in her purse. Just another errand she’d have to run later.

The thumping in her chest intensified. She supposed she’d have to suck it up then. There wasn’t anything else that could relieve her stress right now any--

Her eyes drifted to her phone, facedown on her desk. She stared at it.

 _No_ , she thought. _That’s not going to help. Just stop thinking about it. I don’t need to do that._

_I’m not crazy._

But she was already reaching for the phone.

She clenched her other hand into a fist.

 _Just for a second_ , she thought. _Just to get through the day. Don’t think about it too much. It’ll be fine if you just don’t think about it._

Pearl inhaled, unlocked her phone, then looked through her phone contacts.

She scrolled through until she saw _her_. That profile picture with her pretty, dyed blue hair covering her eyes ... her cute pointy nose poking through her bangs ...

Pearl swallowed.

Pearl had listed her as “Better Pearl” in her contacts, an inside joke since they shared the same first name.

That was how they’d met in the first place. In college, Pearl had mistakenly gotten some of her mail and she went to deliver it in person. And after that--

_Stop thinking about it. Just get it over with._

Pearl opened up text messages and sent one to _her_. She started typing:

_I’m feeling really overwhelmed. I’m not sure what to do. I’m trying to get myself together._

Pearl hesitated before she sent a second one.

_I miss you._

Pearl stared at the phone. “Better Pearl” was always the one who’d comfort Pearl when she had a bad day. It provided some relief to send her a text message just like Pearl used to before...

Before everything.

 _Don’t scroll up_ , Pearl though. _You’re trying to feel better, not_ worse _. Don’t be stupid. It won’t make you feel better._

But a moment later she thought, _I just want to read something she wrote._

Pearl scrolled up through her messages and immediately regretted it. She saw the last message her Pearl had written:

_running late. sorry. on the way, be there soon. <3_

But “soon” never came.

Pearl slammed the phone down on the desk and clutched at her hair.

Why did she do that? How could she be so _stupid_? As if reading _that_ would make her feel any better. Why did she even keep that message? She should just delete it, but everytime she tried, she _couldn’t_.

Everytime she read it, no matter how much she told herself it’d be fine, she just thought back to the day of the accident. She remembered being frustrated that her Pearl had stood her up before she heard what actually happened. She remembered crying for hours, being so distraught days later she couldn’t even bear to go the funeral. She cut class so much after that Mother found out and called, demanding to know why Pearl had been slacking.

And since Mother didn’t know Pearl ever had a girlfriend in the first place, Pearl lied. She said she'd just been sick, all while quietly _hating_ herself.

And nothing had changed, Pearl thought. It had been over a year and she _still_ felt like this. It wasn’t normal to text your dead girlfriend when you felt sad like they were still alive.

It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t--

 _Keep it together,_ Pearl thought. _Just stop thinking about it. Everything is fine._

_You’re fine._

_You’re not crazy._

_You’re_ not.

Pearl ran her hand over her face, feeling the sweat drip down her forehead.

She needed more pills. _Now_.

But it was hours before her lunch break.

So Pearl quietly got back to work until she could leave.

All the while telling herself everything was fine.

Because it was.

Everything was ... fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, CoreyWW here.
> 
> So this fic is kind of an interesting story. I am a huge fan of the story [_"Something about Roommates and Girlfriends" by TheLillie_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969258/), which if you've never read I highly suggest following that link and doing so as it's hands down the best human/college AU fic I've ever read (this coming from someone who normally doesn't get attached to them that much). I recently became friends with TheLillie and when we talked about her fic, I mentioned a headcanon idea I had that Yellow Pearl was Peridot's sister in this universe.
> 
> Which she then used in the actual story, which I was super stoked about, haha.
> 
> After she appeared in the story's canon, I thought more about her and this first chapter came about. TheLillie has already read this and mentioned she considered it canon, so that makes me feel really good, haha.
> 
> AND THEN, after seeing my first chapter, another of my friends, the very talented [airamcg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg/pseuds/airamcg) wrote a drabble based on that first chapter, turning this into a daisy-chain of recursive fanfiction at this point, haha. So we decided to post them both as a doubleshot.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this double feature. Thanks to TheLillie for being so cool about us posting these.


	2. It's Not Crying If the Tears Don't Fall

Sometimes, when Mother surely won’t notice, Pearl digs through her phone’s files— through folders within folders within folders. To her most precious album.

 [“Better Pearl”]

The cover is of herself smiling up at Blue, whose arms lovingly encircled Pearl’s shoulders. It’s her favorite picture of them— the first of many and the last of the good ones.

A thumb wistfully brushes against the screen, lingering over their smiles.

Sometimes, when Mother surely won’t notice, Pearl wishes she can dive into those photos— to return to that world and that time.

The image on her phone turns blurry.

Her eyes sting.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is Airam, and I like writing 100-word drabbles. 
> 
> There are many things I want to say about the fics that inspired this one, but it wouldn't look good if the Author Notes were longer than the fic itself, so I'll just say this:
> 
> "I blame you, CoreyWW. And I blame TheLillie too. (You're both so awesome.)" 
> 
> Anyway, comments are always welcome, and thank you so much for reading!


	3. Lemme Take A Selfie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I know this hasn't been updated a while, but there's been a new development! TheLillie, writer of the original "Something about Roommates and Girlfriend" has written a new fic in that universe that fits the theme of the first two fics AiramCG and I wrote, so she asked if I could add it in.
> 
> It's really wonderful and I love it, so I hope you enjoy it also!

“You left your phone, dumbass!”

Stevonnie winced as they stepped into the building. They didn't usually have too much of a problem with profanity, but hearing it hollered in one’s general direction the moment one gets home isn't really the most pleasant thing in the world.

Fortunately, it didn't seem pointed at them--the person who it did seem pointed at was a distressed-looking young woman in yellow coming towards the door, walking fast and clutching her purse.

Stevonnie furrowed their brow and stepped toward her. “Ma’am, are you o--”

“Move,” the woman snapped, shoving Stevonnie out of the way with her shoulder without looking up from the ground. Stevonnie backed up as the woman hurriedly pushed through the door.

“Yeesh.” Stevonnie slid their hands into their jacket pockets. Some people just had bad moods, they supposed. Can't help everyone.

Humming lightly, Stevonnie skipped up the stairs toward their apartment. They shuffled through their key ring for a sec before finding the one to unlock the door. Maybe they should cut back a little and find someplace else to keep all their keychains--

“Hey, bomber kid.”

Stevonnie looked up to see the next-door neighbor, a strikingly-green-eyed girl they'd only talked to twice before (once when first moving in and once when they offered to fix her blocked sink, both very brief conversations) leaning out of her doorway. They gave a small smile. “Oh, hey, neighbor. What's up?”

“You like helping people, right?” Malachite asked.

“Um--yeah, I guess so--”

“Here.” Malachite tossed the little black phone in her hand to Stevonnie, and Stevonnie startledly fumbled to catch it. “Give that back to the lady who just ran outta here.”

“Wh--but she just--”

The door closed. Stevonnie frowned and tightened their grasp on the phone, glancing back in the direction the woman had gone. She was probably long gone now--they were an optimistic person in general, and a fast runner, but it just wasn't realistic to think of literally chasing her down now. They'd have to either hold onto it in the hopes she'd come back, or go detective.

They smirked and suddenly wished for a cool hat and trench coat.

First step: consult witnesses. Inside the apartment, Smoky was lounging on the couch with a bag of gummy worms on their chest and their phone close to their face.

Grinning, Stevonnie overdramatically slammed the door shut, causing Smoky to yelp and sit up straight.

“Mx. Lyonne!” Stevonnie proclaimed. “Where were you on the afternoon of today, a few minutes ago?”

“Uh, here?” Smoky slumped back down and nudged a few gummy worms closer to their mouth. “I haven't really moved for a few hours now.”

“And while being ‘here’, did you happen to see or hear any sign of a woman stopping next door who may have left _this_ behind?”

They presented the phone. Smoky raised an eyebrow.

“Nah. Not really.”

“Aw, man.” Stevonnie dropped the act and their shoulders. “I thought you might have at least a little clue.”

“Clue to what?”

“To who she was. Malachite gave me this and told me to return it to her, but I don't know how to find her.”

“I mean, I did hear some yelling coming from next door,” Smoky said. “Couldn't really tell what they were saying, though.”

Stevonnie hummed and tapped their chin with the phone. “So she's someone who knows Malachite well enough to yell at her, but not enough for them to be on good terms. Or maybe _too_ well for good terms…”

“Why don't you just look for clues on the phone?” Smoky asked.

“Well, I was gonna do that next, but I just wanna make the most of all the clues I have,” Stevonnie replied, but they relented to try turning the phone on. It had a bland default wallpaper, an impressively full battery, and--surprisingly but fortunately--no passcode required to unlock it.

“Maybe it's a new phone,” Stevonnie guessed, briefly showing the screen to Smoky.

Smoky held up their own phone. “I haven't changed the background since I got this phone three years ago.”

“Or this person's just super lazy like you.”

“Conserving energy. Stickin’ to necessities.”

Stevonnie scrolled through the woman's apps, starting to pace the floor a little. Screen after screen was cluttered with apps--some stuff that looked like it was for business, social media, networking…

“Hey, Sherlock, you should sit down.”

“I can't find her contacts. This is a mess.” Stevonnie tapped an icon that looked promising, but instead of a contact list, they were met with a creepily-grinning selfie. “Eugh! Yikes.”

Smoky gave a deep sigh and held out a hand. “If you can’t find something in a mess, I can. Gimme.”

“No, I can figure this out,” Stevonnie insisted. “I just need--aah! Aah, it’s ringing! What do I do?!”

“Answer it, dude!”

“But what if it’s a really important call and I’m gonna mess it up for her?!”

“It’s probs just her calling from a different number to find it! Answer it!”

Teeth gritted, Stevonnie slid the icon to ‘accept’ and lifted the phone to their ear. “H-hello?"

“So help me, Malachite, if you've done anything with my phone--”

It was her. Stevonnie exhaled, but quickly sucked the breath back in. “Sorry, ma'am, this is Malachite’s neighbor. She gave your phone to me after you left it.”

“She _what?_ Who are you?”

“I’m--I mean, my name’s Stevonnie--”

“If I find out that you’ve done anything--”

“Whoa, lady, calm down--”

Smoky grinned, eyes wide in a blend of sympathy and schadenfreude.

“Ex _cuse_ me? Do you have any idea who I am?!”

“Um--no, sorry.”

There was a brief pause. Stevonnie bit their lip and glanced at Smoky, who curiously raised their eyebrows.

“Well, good,” the woman finally said. “Look, all I want is my phone back--”

“I know! All I want is to get it back to you!”

“May I finish, please?” the woman huffed.

“Sorry. Right. Of course.”

“All right. I'm calling from a payphone outside a diner on Main Street, a few buildings down from the Giallo Incorporated offices. Do you know the place I'm talking about?”

“Uh--” Stevonnie shuffled through their memory for a moment. “Oh, yeah, that's The Best Diner In The World, right?”

“Well, I couldn't say, I've never eaten it myself--”

“No, I mean--it’s called 'The Best Diner In The World’, right?”

Smoky snorted.

“Oh.” Another pause. “Well, yes, I suppose it is.”

Stevonnie smiled. “Yeah, I know the place. You should try it sometime, it really--”

“I _just_ want my _phone_  back,” the woman repeated forcefully. “And I don’t have much time. So if you’re not here with it in fifteen minutes....well, you’d better be here!”

“Roger, ma’am,” Stevonnie nodded--but the woman had already hung up.

 Stevonnie pulled the phone from their ear and quirked down a corner of their mouth.

“Well, ‘ave ya cracked it, Holmes?” Smoky asked in a bad Cockney accent.

“I guess so. I still don't know who she is, but I know where to find her.” They flourished the phone with a cocky smirk, very much in character, and swept out the door without giving Smoky a chance for anymore questions.

* * *

For the eleventh time--she was keeping count--Pearl checked her watch. Eight minutes since she had hung up the phone, ten since she had picked it up. Seven left for that whoever-they-were to get here with her phone or...well, she supposed if they didn't arrive before she had to get back to work, she could borrow a phone from someone at the office and try calling again. And if they ended up not arriving at all…

Good _God_ , how could she have been so _stupid?_ Just going there in the first place had been a bad move. Why couldn't she have just kept it together a little longer, waited to get the meds until she had a little more time? Or why couldn't she have swallowed her stupid pride and turned back to get her phone when Malachite yelled at her? Or why couldn't she just be a normal competent human being who didn't need to sneak around for illegal anxiety pills that could very well get her killed if Mother ever found out--

A honking horn startled her out of her worry, and she reflexively clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screeching out loud. A little gray car had pulled up to the curb.

Hands anxiously folded to her chest, Pearl stepped toward the car as the driver got out. She vaguely recognized the driver from bumping into them earlier, a tall kid with ridiculous curly hair.

“This is your phone, right?” the kid asked, holding it up.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Pearl sighed, swiping her phone out of the kid's hand. “What did you do with it?”

“Nothing, I promise,”  the kid said. “I’m just glad you were able to get it back.”

“Yes, you’d better be.” Pearl looked the device over, checking the screen and charger port for scratches; she turned the screen on to check for anything out of the ordinary. She let out a short breath of relief. “Alright. This looks fine. You can go now.”

There were some fingerprints on the glass that weren't hers. Pearl scowled and rubbed at the prints with the hem of her blouse.

When she looked up, the kid was still there. They hadn't even moved.

“I said, you can go now,” she said.

The kid leaned forward a little. “You're welcome.”

“What?”

“For bringing your phone back. You're welcome.”

Pearl slowly nodded. “Right. Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Anyways. I need to get back to work. So...goodbye.”

The kid chuckled slightly and shook their head as they stepped back toward their car. “Alright, I guess. See ya.”

Pearl slipped her phone into her purse and strode off. A few steps later, she heard the kid’s car turn on, and she didn't turn around to watch them drive away.

Back in her office, panic seized her again.

They’d been using her phone before she called--they answered so quickly, they _had_ to have been doing something with it. What did they _do_? Frantic, Pearl dug the device back out of her purse and tapped for recent screens.

_I knew it._

They’d opened her hidden gallery.

Keeping privacy from her mother was a tricky tightrope Pearl walked on. The Yellow Diamond generally wasn’t interested in what her daughters and her employees did in their free time, but only because she was confident they didn’t have anything to hide, and nowhere to hide it. Pearl was never allowed to lock her bedroom or keep a diary or have a password Mother didn’t know, and consequences were steep if any secrets were found; but on the flip side, most of the time nowadays Mother left her alone, and never really conducted intense investigations. So sometimes if Pearl wanted to keep her from finding a folder of silly selfies sent to and from her girlfriend...all she had to do was disguise it under the icon of a fake app.

The folder was already open to an image--a risky one, Pearl remembered, one she had sent to her Better Pearl right in the middle of work on a dare. The Yellow Diamond was in the background of it, oblivious.

It was the image Pearl had left the folder open on herself last time she had it. The kid hadn’t scrolled through anything else--maybe they had just opened the app on accident.

Or--or maybe they just covered their tracks, scrolled through and scrolled back to make it look like nothing had happened. Maybe they saw _all_ the hidden photos, oh God--maybe they knew everything now--maybe they were going to blackmail her for it--maybe they were just going to tell Mother all of it right away without giving her a chance to--

She stopped. She forced herself to breathe deep, clutching her phone to her pounding heart.

No. No. Her mind was running away from her again. There _were_ good people in this world. Hadn’t that always been what her Better Pearl tried to convince her? Surely that kid was just your average good, honest person. They wouldn’t do anything like that. She was going to be fine.

She was going to be fine.

She was going to find a better way to hide those photos, ASAP.

Her phone buzzed. Not with a message or anything, but with an alarm she’d set for herself. Break time was over.

Pearl laid her phone facedown on her desk and got back to work.


End file.
